


Broken Hearts and Breaking Down

by orphan_account



Category: Panic! at the Disco
Genre: M/M, hitman au basically
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-01-10
Updated: 2017-01-10
Packaged: 2018-09-16 16:53:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,090
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9280832
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Ryan Ross was assigned to kill Brendon Urie. They both seem to have other plans.





	

A sigh left my broken, chapped lips along with a puff of smoke, the familiar burning of my throat welcomed and needed. It wasn't as if it had been a rough day, rather normal if you were to truly ask, but more of a...boring one. Uneventful. That wasn't something that was common for me.

My life was filled with flying bullets and blood spattered floors. Everywhere I went death seemed to follow, likely because I was inviting it along as my guest. After all, it was never my blood upon those floors.

People like to call me a hitman. I liked to call myself a man who works for a price. Rather than working my ass off doing something that barely affects anyone's life for hardly enough to get me through the day, I impact other people's lives, for better or for worse, I could care less. Who cares if my life is on the line if I'm at least changing someone else's, right?

Besides that point, I'm confident in my skills. The likelihood of someone killing me? In my mind, I don't see the possibility. Maybe that’s why Pete, one of my bosses, always tells me my ego will be my downfall. People always like to underestimate me. Sure, I'm young, and maybe not the strongest looking guy you've ever seen. It doesn't help that my eyes look all too innocent for a guy with my kind of job, but what can a man do? It only works to my advantage, I can safely assume, considering out of the 14 men that have come after me, only one has escaped me from that first duel. Even then, his life was taken by my own hand not long after that.

“Hey, Urie.” I let my eyes drift towards who was speaking, replying only with a raise of my brow as I let out another smoke filled breath. It was Pete, with a rather unhappy and grumpy look settled upon his face. “You might wanna look at this.”

He was holding a crumpled note in his hands tightly, like a death grip choking someone to death. His heavy brows furrowed as he skimmed the words one more time, his lower lip caught in between his teeth as I pulled it from his hands, inspecting his face for a moment before reading the note myself.

Mr.Urie,  
The bar at midnight. You know the one. Figure it'd be easier for us to simply meet instead of chasing each other like dogs on a rabbit’s scent. We both know what is to be done, it's been completed thousands of times before us. See you tonight.  
RR

“I'm assuming another person with me as their target?” I lifted my eyes to Pete's again, still holding the note in my hands almost nonchalantly.

“It would seem so. We believe it's from a member of your last target’s gang.” Pete began, reaching out his hand for the paper, though I didn't return it just yet.

“Obviously. It's Ryan Ross, Spencer Smith’s partner. On the day I assassinated Spencer, he was on a separate mission. If he had stayed with Spencer and not gone off on his own, I would have been less likely to have killed Spencer as fast as I did. Either he is really good at holding grudges, or it’s a rather enjoyable coincidence on my part.” I found myself saying the last part rather chipper, crumpling the note in my hand before dropping it into Pete's.

“I'd best be going.” I said, quickly directing a grin at Pete, ignoring the rather baffled look on his face. “Seems like I've got work to do.”

“Uh, no, I don't think so. Where do you think you're going?” Pete basically hissed as I spun around and began to walk away, a strong hand falling on my shoulder. I could have pulled away, simply kept walking, but I found it in my best interests to humor the older man.

“To get ready, of course.” I responded nonchalantly, a smirk flashing across my face as his expression darkened. “I do have quite the date later tonight.”

“Brendon, you're not going.” His voice had turned rather stern, the voice that he used when he went from friend to boss, and my smile faltered for a second as he continued. “I can get one of the others to take care of the problem. We can't jeopardize your safety.”

“Jeopardize my safety?” I couldn't conceal my scoff, rolling my eyes. “Pete, you know damn well I'd be fine, you're the one who got me hired, after all. You know I'm capable of taking him down.” 

“Exactly, that also means I know how valuable you are. You may be capable to take him down in a fight, but delivering yourself right to the enemy is a foolish idea and you know it.” His eyes seemed to flash in a challenging way, almost daring me to fight against someone higher in the ranks. He did it out of care for me, I like to think he viewed me as a younger brother at times, but that doesn't mean it didn't annoy the shit out of me. Maybe that's why, not as his worker but a friend, I fought back.

“Pete, I already know about this man, I've already handled Spencer, and it's safe to assume he isn't much different. I know what he looks like, if anyone other than me shows up he'll be gone within seconds. It's how he plays.” My voice raised a bit at the end, my eyes narrowing. “Just let me do my job.”

Pete went silent, his jaw strongly clenched as his tanned fists clenched. His eyes drifted to the side as he seemed to check over my words, trying to check their truth. I took the fact that he was still quiet after a minute that I had won, and a smug smirk settled on my face as Pete's answer came as a quiet whisper. “Then go. Promise if you think even for a second he may overpower you that you'll leave, no matter your damn reputation?”

“Unlikely that I'd need to, but sure, I promise.” I shrugged and a coy smile flashed.

“I mean it, Brendon. This isn't some silly game, this is your life on the line.” Pete spoke harshly, and I did his best ‘fake-serious’ face as I replied.

“I understand.” We kept our eyes locked for several more moments, until it finally broke and he looked away.

“Good luck, Brendon.”

“Thanks, Pete.”


End file.
